


hug it out

by cyclogenesis (addictedkitten)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, Minor Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/cyclogenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Luke hate each other, so Calum locks them in a closet until they resolve their issues. At least that's the theory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hug it out

"Get fucked," Michael snarls at Luke, jostling into him so their knees bash together, so no, he wouldn't say Calum's little enforced BFF attempt is going well so far. Michael doesn't like Luke and he doesn't feel like trying to like him, no matter how much of a boner Calum has for him over his YouTube videos. Michael's just fine with Calum being the lead singer of their band. He's just fine with their band remaining the two of them with Michael tapping his feet as the rhythm section. 

He's _not_ fine with being stuck in a coat closet with Luke stupid squirrel face Hemmings, especially not when Michael just came to this party because Calum dragged him along under the guise of having fun and then shoved him and Luke into a coat closet with a flourish and a 'hug it out, bitches.' This is not fun. "I hate you," Michael says. He crosses his arms and his elbows knock into Luke's shoulders and Luke hisses and pushes him back into into a bunch of coats so puffy that he just ends up bouncing off of them and stumbling back into Luke, bracing his hands on Luke's shoulders. Why the fuck don't coat closets have _lights_?

"You're such a dick," Luke says from somewhere in the vicinity of Michael's collarbone, all hot breath and fists curled against Michael's chest like he's going to punch him, as if he even could. "What's your problem with me?" He's so tiny, Michael could probably knock him down just with a mean look. Which he's tried, actually. They can't go having some little dweeb as a lead singer.

"Your face is my problem," Michael says. He can just see the outlines of him in the dark but even in blacks and greys Luke still looks irritatingly sincere. It's too warm in the closet and there's nowhere they can go until Calum comes back and unlocks the door and lets them out. It's the worst, and Michael hates Luke's face, and his body pressed close, and the memory of the first time he saw him when they started school and Michael thought suddenly, fleetingly, horribly: he's hot. And he hated himself for thinking it and Luke for making him think it, and now they're stuck in here and Calum wants them to be friends. It'll never happen. 

"Well, don't look at my face, then," Luke mumbles. "I want to be in a band too." He slumps, but there’s no extra space for him to slump into so he just ends up resting against Michael’s body, his shoulders sagged, knees knocking into Michael’s. He’s small and warm and Michael doesn’t exactly see a lot of action and maybe, on the bright side, he’ll be able to get out of this whole situation when he just dies of embarrassment. Yeah, that’s pretty much his only shot now, because Luke’s still hot, and now he’s melted against Michael’s body and Michael’s dick is getting hard. “We don’t have to be friends,” Luke says, curled up against Michael’s chest like he’s tired, that’s all, just tired and seeking a little comfort. Luke’s probably an okay guy and Michael’s just a jerk and a pervert. “Just tell me how I can make you stop hating me.”

Michael closes his eyes. He’s grateful for the dark when Luke shifts against him and gasps, feeling Michael’s erection through his jeans. 

“Um,” Luke says. “Oh.” Michael can feel the way his chest heaves, how fast his breath gets. He can feel that Luke isn’t pulling away and that’s confusing but mostly it’s hot, which just makes things worse. There’s nowhere for his hands to go except for on Luke, so he smoothes them down Luke’s shoulders just to feel while he has the chance. Luke takes in a deep, shuddering breath, and then he slips his hands around Michael’s waist, presses in so Michael can feel that he’s hard too. “Okay,” Luke says, like it’s easy.

Michael swears, leans down and his mouth catches Luke’s cheek before Luke turns and kisses him properly, the briefest chaste brush of lips and then Luke opens for him, licks into Michael’s mouth. His hands steal beneath Michael’s shirt, getting at bare skin, and wow Luke Hemmings moves kind of fast which Michael respects but is still surprised by. Michael’s not going to let himself be one-upped so he kisses Luke back just as hard, gets his hands down on Luke’s ass to get him as close as possible so they can thrust better against each other. This is probably not what Calum was hoping for when he stuffed them into a closet together. Michael probably won’t tell him this part. 

Luke’s making these sweet little moaning noises against his mouth, grinding against Michael’s thigh like he’s racing for the finish line already and Michael’s still a little thrown by it all, his own body moving for him even if his mind hasn’t caught up yet, pushing against Luke’s stomach. He wishes he could get Luke down on a bed, get his clothes off and see what his body’s like, how it’s different from Michael’s own, skinny still where Michael’s husky already. He settles for blind touch, his hands on Luke’s waist, thumbs stroking over the sharp points of his hipbones and then moving in further, toying with the button to Luke’s jeans. 

“Can I,” Michael says, but doesn’t finish the sentence, not even really sure what he wants to ask for, what he can or should. Luke gasps out a yes anyway, so Michael fumbles his pants open and reaches in, gets a good grip on Luke’s cock and feels it out. He has to pause for a second, because five minutes ago he was still at the point of feeling fucked up and weird for thinking a boy was hot and now he’s about to give a handjob. 

“Please,” Luke says, a warm gasp against the corner of his mouth. Michael wants to find it annoying and impatient but Luke sounds too desperate, like he’ll really keep begging if Michael doesn’t give him what he needs - what he’s needed, maybe. The thought that Michael might not have been alone in this spurs him on, and he curls his fingers around Luke’s cock, strokes his thumb over the slickness at the tip and relishes Luke’s needy little gasp, the way his hips fuck into Michael’s fist. Michael’s sweating a little, hot and nervous in the enclosed space, his back to someone’s winter coat and his hand full of someone else’s dick. This is a weird party. 

He gets at an angle that lets him do it comfortably, tugging at Luke’s cock in roughly the same rhythm that he likes his own stroked, and Luke seems to like it, moaning against him, mouthing at Michael’s collar and throat. He doesn’t know Luke at all, really, and it makes him feel kind of cheap and kind of hot. Luke arches up, thrusting into Michael’s curled fingers, kisses him a bit sloppily and clenches his hands in Michael’s shirt and bites down on his lower lip when he comes in Michael’s fist. 

Michael’s got come all over his hand and his breath hurts in his chest and his cock feels like it’s been hard for a hundred years. Luke’s shaking a little, still clinging to him, his voice almost a whimper when he says, “I’ve never,” and then swallows, rubs his hot face against Michael’s shirt, takes a deep breath and adds, “so I’m sorry if it’s bad,” before he slips down Michael’s body, goes to his knees. 

Michael seriously has no idea how he fits down there. It’s a crowded closet and Luke might be half sitting on a vacuum, his knees at least are on Michael’s toes and Michael focuses very intently on the slight pain of that so he won’t just come all over Luke’s face as soon as Luke gets his dick out. His hips jerk at the thought of it and Luke makes a little startled noise, steadies himself with a hand on Michael’s thigh and then goes to work on Michael’s jeans, getting them open and getting his dick out with more grace than Michael probably could manage. 

Then Luke’s hand is on his bare cock, stroking it once like he’s getting a feel for it before he just opens his mouth to take it in, gets a couple inches down it before he has to pull off, coughing a bit. He swears but then goes right back to it, licks over the head of Michael’s dick and then up the length of it, his tongue all hot and wet, unpracticed but eager. Michael’s pretty sure he’s in love with him. 

He sets trembling fingers to Luke’s face and Luke moans a little, swallows Michael’s cock back down as he leans into Michael’s touch, his face fever hot, likely all flushed pink like Michael’s seen him look on hot days. Michael’s wanted him for so long and it’s been so shitty, wanting someone he thought he could never have, it almost wouldn’t feel real except for the overwhelming stupid strangeness of it, the slick fabric of a winter coat behind him, the claustrophobic warmth of the closet, a Rihanna song coming through muffled from outside. 

Luke sucks his cock like he has something to prove, keeps forcing himself to take too much even though Michael’s not trying to fuck his face, just stroking his hot cheek as Luke takes in more and more, choking himself but keeping on until Michael rubs his thumb over Luke’s cheekbone and feels a teardrop slipping down. Michael can’t help himself, then, picturing how Luke must look gagging on his dick, on his knees for Michael, something gorgeous and awful that Michael’s pictured more times than he’d ever left himself think about. 

He moans, shudders and comes in Luke’s hot mouth, hips jerking forward and Luke just swallows around him even though it chokes him, takes it all and doesn’t back off. It feels like it goes on forever, like waking up from a dream when he can finally breathe normally again. He’s sweating. He’s going to look so fucked when they get out of here, which means Luke’s going to look - oh god, Michael can’t even think about it. His cock kicks out another little spurt of come onto Luke’s tongue as Luke slides off of it and Luke’s surprised little, “Oh!” has Michael almost about to laugh. He doesn’t, but only barely. 

Luke’s sweet, helps Michael get his jeans done up and then takes Michael’s hand to stand up on wobbly legs. Michael expects a kiss but instead Luke just leans his head against his chest, wraps his arms around his waist. It takes Michael a moment to process that this is a hug, they’re hugging, but then he puts his arms around Luke too, squeezes him. Luke lets out a little sigh, nuzzles his nose against Michael’s chest when Michael brings a hesitant hand up to pet his hair. 

Michael’s working on what he’s going to say next, a thank you or possibly a marriage proposal, when the closet door suddenly opens. They very nearly tumble out, saved only by Calum’s hand on Michael’s shoulder, steadying him. Michael blinks at him in the light. There are people wandering around, their classmates holding red cups, some looking at them curiously, but none so curiously as Calum. 

“Hey,” Calum says. “You hugged it out, huh?”

Luke goes to pull away and Michael holds him tighter, looks down into Luke’s wide blue eyes and doesn’t let him go. “Yeah, we did,” Michael says. Luke smiles a little, his mouth used and pink. 

“Sick,” Calum says, and pulls them both into a hug. “This is going to be the best band ever.”

Michael doesn’t say so, but he thinks Calum’s probably right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you'd like to link this on Tumblr, [please reblog here](http://cyclogenesis.tumblr.com/post/73343052621/sara-you-should-do-a-clemmings-fic-based-on-year-9-you). ^__^


End file.
